


Fraternization

by bookwyrmling



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Can be read pre-relationship or platonic, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8033362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/pseuds/bookwyrmling
Summary: Fraternizing between Inspectors and Enforcers was not against the rules, but the rules had never taken Tsunemori Akane into account.





	1. Prologue

Fraternizing between Inspectors and Enforcers was not against the rules, but it was against everything Ginoza believed in. “The fool learns from experience, but the wise learns from history,” Ginoza had warned his new partner. He had truly hoped she would prove herself wise, but it only took three cases before he realized the truth of the matter.

_You don’t understand_ , he wanted to tell her as he sent Kogami’s file, _They’ll do nothing but drag you down_. He had already been betrayed twice. He did not want to see it happen again. But even with that information at hand, Tsunemori did not listen.

Her interest in and obsession with Kogami was clear to see and, for someone like Ginoza who knew Kogami well, it was just as easy to recognize Kogami’s interest in her: the way he took her under his wing and taught her how the Enforcers worked – how criminals thought; when he introduced her to Saiga Jouji. And she ate it all up. She put it in to practice. She went outside of the bounds of her duty and dragged the whole of Division 1 with her. She submitted herself to a Memory Scoop of a highly traumatizing event without once submitting herself, in turn, to therapy.

Ginoza’s stomach ached as the days and months continued and he waited for her psycho-pass to cloud. She was betraying him, too. It wouldn’t be long. He pushed her away when he realized there was no longer a point in trying to warn her and Kogami off one another. Let them fall from personhood even further. It was not like Kogami hadn’t betrayed him before, he told himself as he gripped a pen so hard it cracked; it was not like he cared about this newbie.

Only, she remained clear. Powder blue, she had joked once that that was what her holo, Candy, boasted about every morning. It reminded Ginoza of the sky and, even as he fell, he began to hope.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Post-Season 1

Fraternizing between Inspectors and Enforcers was not against the rules; no one thought it would ever need to be. Inspectors were some of the cream of the Sibyl System’s crop – intelligent, motivated and with clear psycho passes – the elite, the future bureaucrats, the perfect citizens who fought to defend Sibyl and certainly would not consider moving against her decisions. Enforcers, on the other hand, were latent criminals – those deemed by Sibyl to be too dangerous for society – and, more than that, they were latent criminals who stood no chance at rehabilitation. They were the morally derelict who traded away any possible chance at recovery in isolation for the minimal freedom offered to them for the cheap cheap price of dying themselves black to protect their superior officers. Ten years in the MWPSB and an Inspector was set for life. Enforcers were their shields and sacrifices, lives already lost to Sibyl’s will and laid down when needed for their Inspector to climb over. Why, therefore, would an Inspector risk throwing all that away to spend some time with an Enforcer? Even with proper therapy and stress relief, many did not make it through, after all. Ginoza, himself, had made it to a frustrating nine.

“If you think that, Ginoza-san, then you are welcome to check my hue.”

Their dominators were nowhere near at hand, otherwise the man was certain his Inspector would have told him to point it at her to check her full psycho-pass. Instead, she activated her wristlink and ran a scan to show him the familiar powder blue he had become so dependent on. The smirk she sent him shouted I told you so and Ginoza could only nod in reply. Tsunemori Akane would not fall – could not fall – and Ginoza had decided to stand behind her for exactly that reason. He would protect her and she would show him the world as she saw it. As naïve as it often seemed to him, it was a far more beautiful one than he had ever known and he never wanted to close his eyes to it. He smiled and the warmth Tsunemori brought with her very presence tickled his chest.

Ginoza poured her a drink before pouring his own. “It’s one of my father’s stash, so it’s pretty stro-” he began, but Tsunemori knocked it back before he could finish and Ginoza stared, wide-eyed as she set the glass down on the table and blinked the tears from her eyes.

“I’ve been wanting to try that once,” she laughed and Ginoza felt compelled to do the same. “Don’t get too drunk if you plan on making it home,” he warned and Tsunemori laughed again.

“I’m not so weak one drink will knock me out, Ginoza-san,” she teased, “I had plenty of practice with Kagari-kun, after all.”

The light-hearted air deflated with the name and the bright room seemed to dim a bit in reflection of their drop in mood.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year.” Tsunemori was the first to speak, her voice only just above a whisper, yet as sharp as shards of broken glass. They pierced the both of them and Ginoza poured her another glass as he grunted in agreement.

In the following silence, they raised their glasses together before taking a more appropriate drink than Tsunemori’s earlier shot. “Thank you for taking me out to his grave today, Inspector.” With Dime at his side, Ginoza had spent a good hour in front of his father’s memorial stone. Tsunemori had even stopped at a dog park to let Dime run loose. It had not taken long for the aging creature to exhaust himself, but even after that they had relaxed in the fresh air and Ginoza had felt real grass beneath his hands. She had not had to do any of it and yet Ginoza knew she would not want recognition for doing beyond what any other Inspector would.

“What did I tell you about calling me that, Ginoza-san?”

“You are my superior and due that respect,” Ginoza closed his eyes and argued as he had many times before.

“We’re both off the clock today,” Tsunemori pointed out for the second time that day, “I’m here as your friend.” Her small fingers curled around the glass set before her on the table. “We’re both marking the same event and remembering the same people,” she reminded him as she raised large pleading eyes in his direction, “Let me be your equal today, at least, Ginoza-san.”

Ginoza turned away from her stare, his eyes falling to his gloved prosthesis. “Thank you for being with me today, Tsunemori.” He did not have to look. He could feel her smile like the sun’s late afternoon rays pouring directly through the window on a cloudless day.

“Thank you for letting me be here with you today, Ginoza-san,” she replied, as if she was not the one saving him from the loneliness of his father’s first death anniversary. Reaching out, she placed her hand on top of his prosthetic – the other preoccupied holding his glass – and squeezed. Ginoza almost swore he could actually feel it – the warmth seeping through his glove, the pinpoint pressure of her petite fingers against his palm and the slight heft of her delicate hand resting on the back of his own. His fingers twitched, almost closed around her own, and then he pulled it away, into his lap, under the table, and took another drink.

Tsunemori’s smile did not quite reach her eyes after that, but she finished her drink and accepted another and another until Ginoza was too drunk to pour steady, which took barely any time at all. She helped him to his bed and then curled up on a couch in the CID lounge. Ginoza had not been the only one saved from the silence and loneliness of the day.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Post-Season 2

Fraternizing between Inspectors and Enforcers was not against the rules and, for the first time in his life, Ginoza felt glad for it. He had just finished cooling the softboiled eggs when the doorbell sounded. In his pen, Dime lifted his head to stare at the door before rolling his eyes to his owner and Ginoza smiled as he set the two bowls down on the counter before opening the door.

“Ginoza-san, so you are still up,” Tsunemori greeted with a tired smile and Ginoza stood aside to let her in. The smile dropped to troubled concern as she sniffed and saw the pots set on the counter to the side, “I’m not interrupting your meal, am I?”

Ginoza shook his head. “It isn’t that late yet and it was an easy morning shift,” he argued before leading the both of them over to his table and having her set her bag of birthday gifts – a variety of cup ramen from Hinakawa and a white wine from Karanomori and Kunizuka – to the side of the sofa. Sugo had felt guilty for not having known it was her birthday today but offered heartfelt wishes upon learning of that day’s importance, all the same. “You actually came at the perfect time.”

“Oh?” Tsunemori questioned before taking a seat and watching the muscles shift along Ginoza’s back as he put a plate together in his dorm room’s kitchen, “You had something you wanted to speak with me about?”

At the counter, Ginoza set the first dish aside and picked up the second, mixing dashi, stock, tare, noodles and toppings together. At Tsunemori’s question, he nodded his head. “You did not eat lunch,” he pointed out as he grabbed one bowl in each hand and walked back to the table.

“You nearly missed it, yourself,” the younger inspector teased with a smile and Ginoza’s frown deepened at the memory of the morning shift when not a word had been shared between the two of them – the only ones in the room since Hinakawa had been temporarily loaned to Karanomori to help Division 3’s investigation and Sugo and Kunizuka had not been on shift yet – until she had pointed out the cafeteria was closing soon and poured some hot water into a cup of noodles. Ginoza had been too preoccupied trying to not focus on how beleaguered the young Inspector had looked despite the copious amounts of coffee she had consumed so far and the team being between cases.

“It’s your birthday and you volunteered to work a double shift. You look like you have not slept in several days. You haven’t smiled once today,” he accused, each observation dropping one after another onto the table as he stood before it and held the warm bowls.

“Ginoza-san, I don’t know what you mean; I’m smiling right now-”

“Not a real one,” he interrupted and the anger furrowing his brow softened into honest concern. “You said you didn’t have plans tonight. On your birthday,” he continued, “Last year you requested the day off and the year before that you said you could work first shift only. If you were spending your whole day at work and going home on your own, I thought…”

Ginoza trailed off in embarrassment at this point, the question as to if he was overstepping boundaries wrapping tight around his throat, but Tsunemori seemed to recognize he was not done speaking and waited for him to swallow the anxiety and settle assuredness back into his eyes as he set the two bowls down. “I thought you should at least not be alone for a birthday dinner. And you can talk to me if you want.”

It was ramen, Tsunemori’s favorite food. The very same type of food she had thrown in the trash earlier today, an hour after she had added the hot water, only Ginoza’s was handmade and not from a cup or a machine. Tsunemori stared at it, still as stone, and blinked. Ginoza was not even sure she was breathing.

“It won’t be anything like what Kagari or my father could do…” he admitted, but his voice trailed off as he waited in trepidation for any response whatsoever.

In the silence there was a shuddering sigh and Tsunemori’s head dropped when tense shoulders begun to shake. Ginoza froze because, of all the possible responses that he might have expected, tears had not been anywhere on the list.

Ginoza had messed up. He thought he knew the boundaries, but clearly things had changed since Kamui. Maybe he had displayed too much concern over her remaining in the apartment Kamui had broken into. Maybe she was mad at him for holding her back when Kuwashima had killed her grandmother, even though he understood the pain of losing family to his job; because he knew the anger and desire for revenge that could overwhelm and darken even perpetual sky blue. Ginoza knew he was dependent on Akane and her psycho pass. Ginoza knew he would do anything to protect her and it and that it was not all out of selfless compassion, but far more out of selfish desire; yet, somewhere amongst all of that, he had overstepped the very lax boundaries Tsunemori gave him which he had thought he had finally defined.

“Tsu-” he began before shaking his head and correcting himself. “Inspector,” he spoke, instead, corralling himself to the more restricted but far easier to understand relationship boundaries between a normal inspector and enforcer. He pulled his hands, gripping at the edge of the table with white fingertips, behind his back and stared down at the wood grain pattern, swallowing the lump in his throat as he waited for orders, forgiveness, for Tsunemori to leave. He missed the tension that ran through her shoulders and neck at the word, missed the way she scrubbed at her eyes even if he could hear her sniffles and deep, shuddered breaths.

“Ginoza-san…”

Her voice was small, smaller than even her small frame should have been capable of resorting to and, in his concern, Ginoza threw wide eyes her way only to flinch at the disappointment he saw there, hidden in watery corners of red eyes and dark shadows and a heavy frown. “I did not mean to assume,” he apologized as he dropped his face once more, “or overstep any boundaries.”

“Ginoza-san…” And this time, the name was called out with a measure of frustration that added a bit more size to her voice – enough to finally match her miniature frame, even if the whole of Tsunemori Akane was twice as large.

“Tsunemori,” he corrected as he knew what she was scolding him for, still fumbling to right the situation and place their friendship and professional relationship back on solid ground.

Tsunemori was the one to take the next step, however, with a deep, shaky breath and drooping shoulders. “When I was little, my granny would take me out for ramen on my birthday,” she explained, still staring at the steaming bowl of noodles. Ginoza’s fists clenched as a severed ear, as Kunizuka’s voice, as the feel of Tsunemori struggling in his arms amidst the backdrop of a burning building and so much death flashed through his mind and his breathing shallowed. “Even after she went into the nursing facility,” Tsunemori continued, “every year, I would pick some up and visit her and we would eat together. This is the first year–”

Her voice broke off in choked tears and Ginoza remembered the overwhelming pressure, the inability to breathe, when he had looked at the boxes of his father’s art supplies and pictures and liquor that Tsunemori had saved for him “just in case” and then stayed to help him sort through it all. He thought of the first case he worked as an Enforcer, of turning to his side and expecting to see the old man next to Kunizuka or Tsunemori, but after Makishima it had taken time to find replacements and the decimated Division 1 had been working at half-staff.

“I thought I could do it,” Tsunemori started again, her words heavy and voice mucosal, “so I made some for lunch, but…”

It was then that Ginoza stepped in. “We can have something different,” he said, reaching out for the bowl in front of her with wide eyes and cursing at himself for triggering this. Tsunemori had been beside him, ready to move at his pace when it came to mourning his father. She had never pushed him in that aspect, ignoring his shaking hands and wide eyes when he wished her to and changing the subject when a conversation brushed on matters to painful for the time. He hadn’t meant to push her–

“No.”

Ginoza froze as her hand reached out to catch the bowl before he could clear it from her. “Tsunemori?”

She finally looked up from the table, finally locked eyes with him once more and, despite the red rims, despite the watery sheen, there was a familiar determined set to her brown eyes as she pulled the bowl back in front of her. “Ginoza-san, would you please eat this ramen with me?” Her eyes dropped back to the bowl as she took a deep breath and, this time, when she turned his way, she was smiling. “I think…I’d like that very much. And Granny would, too.”

And Ginoza, for a moment, watched her and could not breathe. It was no longer the fear, no longer crushing agitation; it was just a reminder, once more, of how much larger than life this small woman was, of how much her existence meant to him. He blinked and, behind his eyelids he saw powder blue and knew it for what it was – the color of strength and impulsivity. It was Ginoza’s favorite color and he breathed easy once more.

“It’s a little sudden, so I didn’t get to plan for it,” Tsunemori offered shyly, “but the wine in the bag should go well with the ramen, even if it isn’t chilled.”

“I…wouldn’t be intruding…?” Ginoza asked once more, wanting to make sure Tsunemori was doing this out of her own desire and not pushing herself for him.

“I can’t think of anyone else I would rather be eating with tonight,” she replied and Ginoza’s wary frown smoothed back into a gentle concern. Ginoza saw the pain and truth in her eyes and knew her words would not be the case if Tsunemori Aoi were still alive, but if his friend and superior had chosen to invite him into this moment of vulnerability, then he would do what was in his power.

With a nod of his head, Ginoza grabbed the pinot gris out of the bag of various flavors of cup noodles and walked back into the kitchen to open the bottle and grab two glasses of wine. He poured a small glass each and set the bottle in the fridge but, when he returned, he carried the two glasses in one hand and a third bowl in the other.

“I thought your grandmother might like a bowl, as well,” he explained at Tsunemori’s confused look as he set it down in front of another seat.

Tsunemori sniffled, her face pinched as she fought back tears. “She would definitely love a bowl,” she choked through a raw, thick voice. And then she shot him her real and most brilliant smile.

Ginoza smiled back and took a few moments to watch Tsunemori take her first few bites of ramen with slurps of enjoyment before sitting down, picking up his own chopsticks and taking a bite.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Post-Movie

Fraternizing between Inspectors and Enforcers was not against the rules, but the rules had never been prepared for someone like Tsunemori Akane. For someone with her stubbornness and dedication to her beliefs. For someone proven capable of questioning Sibyl’s judgment as she chased men down to the mantra of 299 and uncovered hue scan tampering.

“My friend got married this weekend.”

Ginoza looked up from his drink as she sat comfortably beside him on the sofa before offering a delayed, “Congratulations.” He was not sure if that was right because while Tsunemori was smiling, her brow was furrowed in that way it did when she was having difficulty with a case.

“She met the man through Sibyl,” she explained and still Ginoza could not discern if she was happy or not, sharing good news or seeking counsel, “They seem like they’ll make each other happy…comfortable.”

“Are you thinking about doing the same?” It seemed the quickest way to get to the heart of the matter.

“What?” Only, Ginoza had not expected the utter shock on her face – as if she had never once even considered such a possibility. Sure, she was only 23, but was that not the age to date and socialize? She was too focused on her job and, while it was not like he had the right to judge, as a friend he did not like seeing her toe the line between duty and obsession so regularly. She needed balance, something he had never figured out, if she planned to make it through the rest of her ten years.

“It would be good for you,” he recommended with a neutral voice, specifically modulating each word as the truth of how he would never be able to do just this scraped at his throat, “To have something outside of work. To start a family.”

Tsunemori only smiled. She always smiled at him in the same way. Was he overbearing? Was she pitying him? Ginoza’s eyes dropped to his hands and, past that, to the floor.

“Even if that were the case,” Tsunemori replied with a shrug and a sigh as she leaned back against the sofa hard enough that Ginoza could hear and feel the fwump and stared at the ceiling, “I wonder if there would be any match for me in the system.” Ginoza turned to stare at her profile, the smile even larger – the one that was hiding truths – in disbelief. Sybil could find numbers of people with varying levels of compatibility. And Tsunemori was so good, so kind, with a clear hue and understanding, inner strength, devotion and compassion like none other he had ever known. Surely there was someone out there worthy and capable of giving her happiness.

She closed her eyes and shook her head in complete negation, “No, the truth is, I don’t think there would be.”

His face darkened. “You’re not still hung up on Kogami, are you?” he asked, wondering if that was why she believed the system would have no one for her. After all, the system would not pair citizens up with criminals - latent or otherwise. “I told you, that man’s nothing but a thug now-”

Tsunemori laughed, which was not the response Ginoza expected, but, then again, the woman had never failed to continue to surprise him in one way or another. The years they spent working together had still left so much of her unexpected and yet, whenever Ginoza looked back, he realized he never should have been surprised, at all.

“No, no, definitely not, Ginoza-san,” she waved him off, still only barely holding back a chuckle. She closed her eyes, cleared her throat and took a sip of her bourbon before staring into the amber beverage, biting at her bottom lip in thought. “Once, long ago, that might have been the case,” she finally admitted and Ginoza felt the sinking sensation of a mental _I knew it_. “If there had been time,” she continued, “He was intelligent and fit and he taught me what the system hadn’t been able to – wasn’t set up to. I can’t say I wasn’t attracted.” The sound of the glass on the table resounded in a suddenly silent room and Ginoza craved Dime’s presence at his side, finding, instead, only a hollow ache at his permanent absence.

“But he found his truth and justice,” Tsunemori spoke decisively, as she always did once she had weighed her options and words, “and it is one I will never be able to reconcile with my own.” This time, when she sunk back into the sofa it was with resolve and she smiled at him, teeth bright and eyes closed. “He’s suited to life out there. He will never stop fighting,” she said and as much as it was something she had clearly decided was the truth, Ginoza could hear the melancholy note of regret and exhaustion hiding in the corners of her words, “I have a much different fight here.”

“Even knowing that much, it doesn’t automatically change what you feel…” Even Ginoza, even after what happened on Shambala Float, still wondered what Kogami was up to, worried secretly that he was alive, fretted over what he would do next. Akane had fought so hard for him, on the other hand. How could she not still have her emotions entwined with his memory?

“No,” she agreed, “but it does mean I recognize putting a false name to what I really did and do feel.” Her fingertips played at the glass in her lap and her gaze and head listed as she looked upon the past. “It was never love, Ginoza-san, what Kogami-san and I had. He was my mentor and I was his student.” She dipped her head and closed her eyes before facing him once more, “I respect Kogami-san for that role he filled, however short a time it was, and wish him the best wherever he is. I doubt I’ll ever forget him and part of me does believe I will see him again, but what we had was never love. There was never the chance for it to be.”

“…then why don’t you?”

Despite the silence he spoke into, Ginoza’s words felt and sounded small – even to himself. He wondered, for a moment, if Tsunemori had even heard them or if he truly had spoken that question under his breath as he suddenly believed, but when he looked up from hands both flesh and metal, it was to that look of surprise once more.

And then Tsunemori laughed again. “You really haven’t changed, have you? Ever the worrier, Ginoza-san is.” Tsunemori had this smile that Ginoza swore could save anyone’s soul – it certainly had his – and his breath caught for a moment at the initial sight of it then and there until it ultimately drew out a tender reply from his own eyes and lips. “I’m happy the way things are,” she stated, placing her nearly empty glass down on the coffee table and leaning in against Ginoza’s arm, “I’m happy like this.” Her head barely met his shoulder and Ginoza was suddenly reminded of how small and fragile she really was despite how big and undefeatable she had become in his head. One bullet would have been more than enough to do the job Nicholas Wong had attempted in SEAUn…or Kamui with his military drones. It could have been so much more than an arm for her if she had been the one to fall for Makishima’s trap.

“And yet you’re even spending your days off at work,” Ginoza groused before knocking back the rest of his drink. The pouting glare Tsunemori sent his way was one of complete disapproval.

“This isn’t work,” she declared, taking his now empty glass from his hand and setting it on the coffee table as well, “This is me spending time with a very important friend.” Ginoza knew the way Tsunemori thought of enforcers and of him as her equals in personhood even if she still played the part of superior at work. But it had never been with the same harsh demeanor Ginoza had once displayed and, after years spent learning to accept it and accept himself, he could be glad for it. He may comment about her being at work now, but he knew that was not the case for her. And, when she came to visit him, Ginoza found even he could forget the confinement of his apartment and the MWPSB building.

“Now,” Tsunemori smirked with an impish glint in her eyes, “unless you plan to offer yourself up as a candidate, I think this conversation is over.”

Ginoza choked. He had finished his drink – his glass was even on the table out of his reach – and yet he choked and pounded at his chest until his coughs turned into laughter. “As an enforcer, that’s not even an option,” he reminded his companion with a self-deprecating smile, “A latent criminal can’t marry.” The smile faded as his thoughts turned to his childhood and his father, “They certainly can’t make anyone happy.” It was a fact of society and the reason why latent criminals were locked away, after all. People like his father, Kougami and himself were simply no good and that was all there was to it.

Tsunemori bit at her lip and frowned, disagreeing as always. “The law may prevent marriage, Ginoza-san,” she agreed on that point alone before reaching back out to place a hand on his arm, “but what does that have to do with happiness?” While she might have been teasing him earlier, the set to her shoulders screamed at how she was very serious now. “Personally, I decided years ago that only I would be the one to determine my happiness,” she continued with a decisive shake of her head, “That is my job alone, not Sibyl’s. And, if that is the case, why can’t I find it outside of Sybil’s structure?”

Ginoza felt his heart stop for exactly one moment as he mulled over the sedition in Tsunemori’s words. It started back up, along with his breath, in a sudden puff that could almost be a laugh as he bet himself her hue would still be powder blue. It was Tsunemori, after all.

“I don’t see why you or anyone else can’t be happy or make someone else happy,” Tsunemori continued to lecture, her hand on his arm gripping all the tighter and drawing the enforcer’s attention back to her. “Ginoza-san,” she said as she smiled that soul-saving smile once more, “I would have been lost years ago without you.”

That was impossible. Ginoza knew very well his worth and strength and Tsunemori was miles ahead of him in both. She had stepped up to the place of inspector even while he had been hiding himself away in fear. She defended life so completely that even a criminal targeting her was someone meant to be protected from an unjust death if at all possible. All Ginoza could do, on the other hand, was watch her and worry and do whatever possible to mitigate any backlash.

“You underestimate yourself,” he murmured with a devoted smile.

“I could say the same for you,” Tsunemori smirked right back and they both chuckled because neither had any intention of giving up their view of the other.

But it was enough to offer a different perspective to Ginoza – enough for him to consider the truth of her words and the belief behind them that only that individual could determine his or her own happiness. Did that not mean Ginoza could find his own? He watched Tsunemori pour them both another round and reminded himself that, yes, he could and he already had.

“And this is your happiness right now?” he asked, ignoring the lump in his throat and the strange burning in the corners of his eyes as he closed his mechanical hand around the glass Tsunemori offered him once more.

She smiled at him and Ginoza found salvation once again.

“This is definitely my happiness.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the short prologue -- the rest of the chapters are full chapters. ~~This story is actually fully written and available on my Tumblr (same username as ao3) under the tag "Fraternization". I will be posting each chapter as I clean it (which should not take too long).~~
> 
> Sorry for the odd delay half-way through, but one of my other fandoms hit an update week and I figured I should get these last two chapters out before I am completely caught up in it and forget this for the next month. I'm horrible like that x.x
> 
> Anyway, I do hope you all enjoy/enjoyed this piece. Please let me know, either way!


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